


strawberries & cigarettes

by fullsan



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Friends With Benefits, I literally don't know what I wrote, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan-centric, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Smoking, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullsan/pseuds/fullsan
Summary: Jaemin always found him at every party, at every meeting, played with his fingers and his heart, and took him away from the rest to kiss him, to kiss him and made him forget even his own name.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	strawberries & cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> i deeply apologize for this,, i just,, had to let it out and i don't even know what i did but i'm updating it before i regret it? there is referenced sex and mentions of alcohol and smoking, as a warning. let me know if you liked it, thanks for reading!

Jaemin pushed Donghyuck against the bathroom door, taking advantage when the latter whined, and kissed him harder. It was disgusting, the taste of tobacco and alcohol, sour but yet sweet, and Donghyuck hated it with every inch of his body. So he kissed Jaemin harder, trying to gain back some control, trying to suppress the thoughts of how bad things were going. It was always the same story, and Donghyuck doesn’t seem to learn the lesson. He was dangerous, he was everything Donghyuck hated, and yet he couldn’t get enough of Jaemin every time they saw each other. 

It was hot, it didn’t matter that outside was freezing and Donghyuck was wearing a sweater — he wanted it long gone. Luckily, Jaemin thought the same, grabbing him by the collar and pressing him against the wall this time, hands rushing to find his bare waist, tossing his clothes aside. It didn’t matter where, because Jaemin wanted them gone, and he wanted it now. He smiled, tracing small circles and pressing hard into the skin, biting in his shoulder next to a fading mark in his neck. 

Donghyuck whimpered, throwing his head back and hitting the wall loudly when Jaemin started sucking close to his collarbone. He was sure he would have marks later, all made by him, in one way or another. No one would hear them, no matter how hard they moaned, no matter how hard Jaemin pushed Donghyuck over the edge. He could deal with all, he wanted it all, even if he didn’t dare to say so. 

Because at the end of the day, Donghyuck was in love with Jaemin, and he knew whatever they have (if they have something) has a deadline, an imminent end. Donghyuck liked to believe that maybe they stand a chance, that maybe Jaemin didn’t mean things he said, or that he actually cared about him. Donghyuck still wanted to believe Jaemin in everything he said. 

That was why he tolerated all those things he hated, such as Jaemin smoking, Jaemin drinking, Jaemin flirting with others right in front of him, people telling him they saw Jaemin kissing his friends, Jaemin lying to his face about what he did with them, Jaemin promising and promising, and never fulfilling. 

He could have stopped it all, he could have said no, maybe he should have pushed Jaemin away the first time he kissed him, watching the night sky together sitting on the grass, apart from the city. Jaemin invited him to compensate him for something Donghyuck doesn’t remember anymore, and they kissed. It was sweet, so sweet and so unlikely of Jaemin, the flavor of strawberries lingering on his tongue, short and shy kisses, smiles and holding hands. 

Donghyuck had no way of knowing how things could go, what things meant. He wasn’t dating Jaemin (and he didn’t want to), but he couldn’t lie and say they had nothing. Jaemin always found him at every party, at every meeting, played with his fingers and his heart, and took him away from the rest to kiss him, to kiss him and made him forget even his own name. 

When he was young, he knew he wouldn’t date the typical bad boy, full of tattoos and smoking, full of stereotypes and of himself. Donghyuck liked boys like Jeno, boys like Renjun, sweet and attentive, caring and so close to home — and he was sure Jaemin lost all of that somewhere in the middle. 

Lying to his parents, inventing excuses to why his clothes or himself smelt like cigarettes, why he sneaked out more than usual, or why his grades dropped. Everything seemed so different, Donghyuck felt like he was starting to lose himself, and he never got it back. 

But everytime he found himself like this, naked, below Jaemin’s big arms and suffocating gaze, feeling skin with skin, he forgot about all. It was scary, how being with someone could be so comforting and scary at the same time. And if everytime they kissed Donghyuck wanted to throw up, he said nothing; and if everytime Jaemin choked him he wanted to cry and beg him to stop, he just endured it. 

Because yeah, not everything was bad from the start, and Donghyuck was sure Jaemin felt something for him, something to hold on him. He tried to remember the difference between kisses, the care Jaemin put onto him the first time they had sex, or when he took him out on a date. All vanished, and Donghyuck found it hard to think when was the last time he talked, in one way or another, to Jaemin.

And this night was no different, Jaemin smoking with his friends (those Donghyuck doesn’t know about) and Donghyuck dancing happily with his own, drinking something he is not sure at all whether it contains a high amount of alcohol or not; and Jaemin appears. He appears and smiles, takes him away and kisses him hard, rushing to the bathroom and escaping from everyone.

Jaemin liked to call him cute names, to remind him how beautiful he was, and Donghyuck wanted to believe them all in the same way he wanted to believe Jaemin every time he assured him that he did nothing with others. 

Full nights crying in silence, his heart aching for comfort, knowing that Jaemin would never love him back. He didn’t want Jaemin to love him back, though. He knew they had no room for that, he knew it was better this way. It would be easier for him to forget about Jaemin, to ignore him and stay away from his life, to find someone else to find in love with, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to, because he couldn’t lose Jaemin. This was the only way to have him by his side, because it was better to have him like this than no having him at all. 

And he tried to go away, he tried to push him off and end things, he whispered to Jaemin to stop and cried a little. Yet, Jaemin held and reassured him, promised him things both knew he would never do, and kissed him sweet again — in the same way he knew Donghyuck loved. And he wanted to believe, letting him enter again, opening his heart and giving it away, to find his bed empty the next day.

It was suffocating, the way he couldn’t breathe, the knot in his stomach. The smell of sex mixed with tobbacco, memories coming to his mind and voices inside of his head. Did he really deserve all of that? Was that everything Donghyuck used to want? The feeling of never being enough, of comparing himself to others, to apologize for things he shouldn’t feel sorry about, to get his mattress to smell so bad he wanted to throw up right there, to not have a single message of Jaemin on his phone. 

Playing can go on both sides, but Donghyuck knew he wasn’t meant for that. He wanted to know why Jaemin needed others, why he still went on having affairs with so many different people, why Donghyuck wasn’t enough. 

Kissing Renjun was nothing Donghyuck could have imagined, or wished for. Renjun was caring, taking his time in making sure Donghyuck was okay with everything, smiled and kissed his cheeks. Renjun pulled him close and genuinely made him happy. There was something in Renjun’s eyes, in Renjun’s fingers lingering along his skin and putting his hair behind his ear, in the way he pulled him back for a kiss, and in the way he would do it again in a heartbeat. Yet, Donghyuck still doesn’t know why Jaemin doesn’t think he is enough, or why he can’t fall in love with someone like Renjun (or with Renjun himself).

Face pressed to the cold ceiling, Jaemin’s fingers on his wrists and their bodies touching each other, both of their clothes getting dirty on the floor, and their breathings mixed with the loud music. He closed his eyes, focusing on the pleasure rather than in the consequences, because Donghyuck didn’t want to miss even a moment of Jaemin. 

Maybe Jaemin was right when he told him they were fated, that they were meant for each other, but maybe not in the way Donghyuck wished. Because he wished for them to be normal, to have a proper relationship, to hold each other’s hands in public, to hang out with their friends — even if he lied to himself. Donghyuck was a fool, and the worst part that he was okay with it. 

He still hoped to taste strawberries in Jaemin’s lips, to find the smile and gaze Renjun gave him once, to find Jaemin coming back to him and staying. Staying. Jaemin. Donghyuck could dream, and he had to live with that. Heart aching, suppressing his own tears and kissing Jaemin again, tasting gasoline even after kissing for so much. He couldn’t make it go away, just like he couldn’t get Jaemin out of his life. He still wanted him, Donghyuck still wanted more of Jaemin. 

So that is what he did, kissing him back, now both laying on the floor. And probably his friends were looking for him considering the amount of time he was spending in the bathroom with Jaemin, but he couldn’t help it. 

He blinked once, twice, getting up and collecting his clothes with a sigh. Jaemin took back his black jeans, covering the red rose tattoo he had on his right thigh. Donghyuck loved that tattoo, maybe as much as he loved the owner. And he watched him go, saying something he didn’t catch, disappearing and closing the door. Donghyuck was left alone. Like always. 

It was shameful the way he cried, the way he couldn’t help but let his feelings overwhelm him and choke on his own spit. Jaemin was no longer there, but the taste lingering on his tongue stayed, the hickeys and bruises would haunt him again for days, and yet—

And yet Donghyuck knew he would do it again.


End file.
